


You Belong in a Michael Bay Movie

by fits_in_frames



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-01
Updated: 2009-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-20 05:24:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1498282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have to blow up a car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Belong in a Michael Bay Movie

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle VII ([original comment](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/394717.html?thread=22357725#t22357725)).

They have to blow up a car.

Something to do with insurance fraud and decoys and sleight of hand over two hundred miles, blahblahblah, they need to find an old clunker and blow it up on cue. Sophie's going to be with Nate--the wealthy couple buying a...junkyard, or something--so the three young'uns have to take care of it. Eliot cracked his knuckles ominously when Nate called them young'uns. Hardison contemplated curling up in the fetal position underneath Nate's desk. Parker had stopped paying attention after the words "blow up a car."

They're waiting, now, in the van, and Parker is bouncing like a kid on Christmas morning.

"It's going to burn forever," she practically giggles, looking through her binoculars. "I want to watch the whole thing."

"No," Hardison and Eliot say at the same time, the former with anxiety and the latter with disdain. Neither of them wanted to be close enough to see it, but Parker had insisted. That, however, is where they drew the line.

"You guys don't think this is exciting?" she says, away from the window, pouting at them.

"No," they say again, though this time their feelings are more or less reversed. Eliot knows that look in her eye.

"I could make it exciting," she teases.

Two minutes later, the transmitting part of their ear pieces are disabled (courtesy of Hardison), their legs are all tangled (partially Eliot's fault, boy has a terrible sense of balance), and Parker's three shirts and sports bra are spread out on the floor of the van. Eliot's kissing down her front while Alec strokes her back and kisses her mouth, and she all but writhes between them. She loves the attention, she loves the feel of skin-on-skin, and above all she loves that they're about to quite literally blow something up. Though, she's pretty sure the boys don't care about _that_ anymore, especially since her nimble little hands have slipped into their pants.

Alec needs gentle, long strokes, and he moans in approval against her shoulder, continuing to touch her, all over and everywhere. Eliot's hips hitch when she first touches him, and the growl in his throat says he wants to fuck her, but she's not that kind of girl, so she spits in her hand and jerks him off, fast and hard, rubbing herself against his thigh while he sucks and nips at one of her breasts (Alec's thumbing the other one, his warm hand a contrast to the coolness in the absence of Eliot's mouth). Alec, surprisingly, comes first, with plenty of warning, shuddering and almost-laughing to himself. Eliot follows, seconds after, with the most pained expression on his face Parker's ever seen a man make when he orgasms. It's then that they hear something over the roar in their ears, something else--Nate. Saying the code words. Sounding very annoyed.

"I just can't get over how cute that ITALIAN RESTAURANT was," he says again, and Hardison scrambles for the detonator, trying to hold up his pants with one hand and push the button with the other. Eliot finally grabs it from him and presses it with his palm, and when the _boom_ finally happens, Parker's scream can be heard for blocks.

"Sorry," she says, a moment later when the boys won't stop staring at her. "I told you, this is exciting."

"You belong in a Michael Bay movie," Eliot says, wagging a finger at her. "Not that that's a bad thing," he adds, then grumbles something about her buying him new pants and leaves the van.

Hardison just looks down at her bra on the floor, mortified.

Parker blushes and covers herself with her arms.

"Can you, uh. Throw me a shirt?"

Hardison wants to curl up between the seats and claim insanity if anyone caught them. He doesn't, but he seriously considers it.

(At least the job itself went down without a hitch, though it's little consolation when Nate has to pay cleaning bills to the van company.)


End file.
